


Our Revels Now Are Just Begun

by kageygirl



Series: Folie à... [4]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Poly V, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageygirl/pseuds/kageygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We are such stuff / As dreams are made on, and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep." -- Shakespeare, <i>The Tempest</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Revels Now Are Just Begun

The Krellen, it turned out, were just as generous when it came to throwing big, public parties as they were with their small, private ones.

In the main hall, most of the tables had been removed, the rest pushed back along the walls to make space around the big fire pit. Food and drink had been pressed on their visitors, while some of the Krellen danced around the flames, singing in unearthly tones. The firelight flickered over the dancers, painting their shadows tall and sharp across the inside of the hall.

Will could easily understand how they could make people believe they were magical, why it would be hard for anyone to ever want to leave, if they didn't have anything to go home to.

He watched the dance from one of the mounds of pillows on the floor, resting his elbow on the knee he'd drawn halfway up, fingers curled over the rim of a cup of lhasa. It was some type of fermented fruit juice, not unlike sparkling wine, and he'd been sipping at it sparingly.

He wanted to keep his wits about him tonight.

Henry was on the far side of the firepit, talking animatedly with three or four Krellen youths, from what Will could catch between the movements of the dancers. Helen had vanished some time ago. From her place beside Kanell, partway around the circle, she'd been casting looks at Will all throughout dinner, her eyes glowing with reflected firelight--and something more besides. Then the dancers had blocked his view, and when he looked again, she was gone.

Her absence had been tugging his attention away from the celebration, and Will finally let it pull him to his feet and towards the door. He left the cup on a table as he passed, and stepped out into the night air.

So far from the light pollution of any human settlements, the stars blazed overhead. Will stopped, entranced by the sight, like a web of pinpoints piercing the velvet night sky.

"Amazing, isn't it."

He turned and saw Helen leaning against one of the other huts, half-hidden in the shadow of the overhanging roof. He made his way over to her and took up a position beside her, folding his arms and resting his shoulders against the same wall, eyes on the stars again. "I always forget how many of them are really up there."

"So do I. But I do so love being reminded." She turned her head then, to look over at him. "I've hardly seen you all day."

"Likewise." It was true--Will had spent the day being passed from Krellen to Krellen, soaking up their history and culture. He'd caught glimpses of Henry from time to time, working with the entourage now hanging with him in the hall, but Helen had been little more than a flash of dark hair and a smile that sped up his heart, surrounded by children or being embraced by their elders.

Now here she was, leaning on her hands, crossed behind her at the small of her back. It was an uncharacteristically passive stance for her, but her eyes made up for it, sweeping over his body, then meeting his with a twinkle to beat the stars. "You look well."

Will felt a blush heating his cheeks, just as her frank appraisal sent heat to other parts of him, and hoped the darkness disguised both. He didn't know what, if anything, Henry had said to her, or what she might have guessed about their earlier activities. But he shook his head and smiled at her, saying, honestly, "You look better."

She returned the smile, her teeth a flash of white in the darkness. It seemed like she was about to say something more, but the doors to the hall opened, and a pair of Krellen stepped out, chatting animatedly as they headed off in another direction.

Will pushed himself away from the wall and asked, "You mind if we take a walk?"

"Not at all," she said, and they headed for the outer edge of the Krellen's ring of huts.

Further away from the festivities, the silence was profound, and Will stopped against the back wall of one of the outer buildings, looking out at the night again--the stars, the wind-ruffled trees, the sliver of moon. He turned to say something to Helen, but it flew right out of his head. In the starlight, the moonlight, she was ethereal and lovely, like a mythical creature herself. Whatever courage he'd drawn from the lhasa was carried away by the wind.

There was just no way he could be this lucky.

She caught him staring and tilted her head to one side. "What on earth is that look for?" she asked, gentle and teasing.

He laughed, softly, the slightest bit shaky. "You. Magnus, you look like a work of art, and I don't know what the hell to do with that."

"And you call me old-fashioned," she said, stepping in front of him. "I think we've known each other well enough for you to call me Helen."

He gave a rueful grin at her phrasing, though her nearness was twisting the thread of need inside him tighter with every second. "Maybe I could use the reminder that I'm not supposed to be undressing you with my eyes."

"Not with your eyes, no," she said, and grinned back at him, as impish as their hosts. "As for what to do with that..." She raised a hand, and drew her fingertips along his jawline, leaving his skin tingling in the wake of her touch. "I have full confidence that you won't let me down," she murmured, close enough that he could feel her breath whisper over his lips.

He closed the distance between them, pulling her in close, running his palms up her back to hide the trembling in his hands. She was warm and eager in his arms, groaning into the kiss in a way that tore into his fraying control. He spun them around, pressing her against the wall, and she grabbed his ass, yanking him closer, rubbing herself against the ridge of his erection.

Will broke away from her and squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay, you're going to have to stop that," he grated out, between forcibly deep breaths.

"Why?" she asked, sounding none too steady herself. She hitched him closer, and he gasped.

He opened his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, staring at her in all seriousness. "Because I really want to take you right here, up against this wall."

Her eyes blazed, and she licked her lips. "Don't hold back on my account."

"Magnus..." He fisted his hands behind her back.

" _Helen_." She dug one hand into the pocket of her jeans, and brought out a foil-wrapped condom. He stared at it, then her, then kissed her, with no finesse, nothing but deep, animal need. She went for his belt, but he grabbed her hands, holding them away.

"Don't," he said, with a jerky smile. "Just--I got it."

She nodded, her expression understanding and more than a little pleased with herself, and went for the fastening of her jeans. Will tore open his belt and his own jeans, and shoved his underwear down far enough to free his cock, hard and aching. Helen ripped open the condom package and offered it to him, and he chuckled breathlessly. Yeah, her hand on him right now would end this before it started.

When he was ready, he looked up and she nodded, then wrapped her hand around his, guiding him into her.

It was tight, and the angle was all wrong, but then she clasped her hands together behind his neck and used his shoulders to push herself up, and oh, god, it was so right. He braced them both against the wall, his hands tight on her hips, and Helen whispered, "Yes, Will, _please_ ," against his cheek, and he couldn't hold back any more. It was clumsy and awkward and so fucking perfect that he was desperately glad when she dropped a hand between them to get herself off. "Will," she moaned, shuddering around him.

"Helen," he breathed in her ear, and came, his whole body shaking against hers.

She mouthed wet, messy prints under his ear, across his cheek, until he turned into her for a long, soft kiss, unwinding the tension between them. Eventually, he had to pull away, laughing weakly--the past twenty-four hours were catching up with him hard, and he wasn't sure he could hold her up much longer. "Sorry," he said, "but I think I just might collapse now." He grinned at her. "Take that as a compliment."

"Poor thing," she said, but her smile was genuine. They managed to disentangle themselves before his knees gave out entirely. Helen produced a few folded tissues and a plastic baggie for the condom, and Will just stared at her.

"Seriously? No one is this prepared." He cleaned up and tucked himself back in, while she took care of herself. He smirked, and double-checked his clothes. "Or maybe you just think I'm that easy."

She shook her head. "Option three." She cupped his cheek, her thumb playing at the corner of his mouth, and tipped his head back up. The tenderness in her face was something he'd caught glimpses of before, usually when he'd been sick or injured, but now it was out in full force, unguarded, and something lurched in his chest. "Hope springs eternal, Will."

He caught her hand and kissed the center of her palm, then let her go again. Her fingers wandered back up to his face, tracing over his forehead, his eyebrow, down his cheek and over his jaw, like she was drinking him in, and he was so glad he'd let Henry shave him earlier. He indulged in a little exploration of his own, combing his fingers through her bangs, tucking her hair behind her ear, letting the strands tangle gently around his fingertips.

"Henry said you... talked," he said, meeting her eyes. "This morning."

She lifted her chin fractionally, one corner of her mouth turning up. "We did."

"And you're okay with," he waved his hand in a circle, trusting her to pick up his meaning, "this?"

She widened her eyes at him. "Did I not feel okay to you?"

"Magnus."

"You're very sweet." She drifted in to kiss him, achingly soft, as if he were something precious. It took him a moment to open his eyes, to see her smiling at him. "And 'okay' is something of an understatement."

"Okay," he said. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I mean, all right," he said, unable to keep from grinning. She eyed him for a beat, then an evil glint came into her eyes, and she curled her nails into his ribs. He was pretty sure he gave an unmanly yelp as he jerked away from her, then trapped her tickling fingers against his sides. "Okay, okay, truce."

"Don't start anything you can't finish, William."

The way she was looking at him, he was in real danger of doing just that. He cleared his throat and said, "We should probably get back to the party."

He stepped away to let her precede him, but instead of heading back toward the center of camp, she began circumnavigating the ring of huts. "I was thinking of turning in early," she said, when he fell in beside her.

"Tired?" he asked, looking her over. He could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she'd been the first one to crash out.

She smiled a dark and tempting smile, looking him over wickedly. "Not in the slightest."

He stumbled then over an uneven patch of ground, and she steadied him with a hand on his arm. "Thanks," he said, and shook his head at her. " _You_ are not good for my equilibrium, you know. I wasn't kidding, earlier, about collapsing--you might have to catch me if I trip."

"Do you need catching now?" she asked, and held out her hand. It was such an innocent gesture after what she--they--had just been doing that it took him by surprise, but she'd been surprising him since the day they met.

He took her hand, and let her lead them back to Kanell's hut, her fingers warm around his.

When they got inside, Helen kept hold of his hand, spinning him to face her and backing him towards the bed-couch thing. His knees hit the edge, but when he sat down and then scooted himself further up, she kept going, crawling over him on all fours, until he was flat on his back.

"Hi," he said, smiling up at her.

"Hello," she said, returning the smile. Her hair tickled the side of his face. Aside from her knees bracketing his hips, they were barely touching anywhere else, but it was suddenly very warm in the hut.

She caught him glancing at the door. "Henry's spending some time with his new friends tonight." He frowned up at her, a little puzzled, and she added, "We spoke earlier."

His hands had migrated up to her thighs, thumbs rubbing over denim. "If you knew we were going to have the place to ourselves, then why--?" He pointed his chin at the door, not quite able to finish that sentence. He didn't regret it in the slightest, but he wouldn't have thought that semi-public sex was her style.

Then again, two days ago he wouldn't have thought he'd ever have her straddling him, looking him over like she was trying to decide which part of an ice cream sundae she wanted to dig into first.

She shifted her weight and rested one hand on his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart racing. "You don't think I wanted that as much as you did?" she asked, without artifice or innuendo, and Will suddenly felt like kind of a jerk. Despite everything, somewhere deep inside, he really hadn't known it meant that much to her.

He slid his hand behind her neck and brought her down to kiss him. "I just didn't think that was possible," he said quietly.

"And here I thought, all this time, we'd been teaching you to expand your definition of 'possible'," she said, and rubbed her nose against his, before dipping her mouth to his again.

"Apparently I still have a lot to learn." He trailed his fingers over her cheek, watching as she turned into the touch, her eyelids fluttering.

This time, the seduction was soft and gradual, but no less thrilling. Just being able to share this casual intimacy with her was intoxicating, the physical counterpart to the closeness they'd developed through their work. Helen lowered herself down next to him, and Will turned on his side to face her. He let his free hand wander, and she did the same, while they shared slow, lingering kisses.

Things started to get a little heated, and Will felt Helen begin to work her way down the buttons of his shirt, her nails nipping incidentally at his chest. He waited until she'd undone the last one, then eased her over onto her back. He grinned at the raised eyebrows she gave him, and ditched his shirt as he sat up. "I haven't really gotten a chance to see _you_ yet."

She stretched her arms over her head, and twined her hands together, arching her breasts toward him in invitation. "I'd say 'take your time', but that would be completely insincere."

"You do know that faster isn't always better, right?" he asked, though he was already taking care of the buttons on the soft cotton shirt she was wearing.

"I also know it's rude to keep a lady waiting." She wriggled just enough to make the halves of her shirt fall open.

"My lady," he said with a chuckle, and started by tasting the skin of her neck, curving a hand around her ribs to keep her in place when she squirmed under him. He moved down to her clavicle, then the upper swell of her breast, and she sighed, dropping her hand to cradle his head. He popped open the front clasp of her bra--had she planned ahead for this, too? did he want to know?--and breathed across her erect nipple. She sucked in a breath, her hand tightening in his hair.

"Sorry," she murmured, letting go right away, smoothing her fingers over his scalp. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and then closed his lips over her nipple, sucking lightly. He was ready this time, and held her down when she bucked up against him. When he gave her other nipple the same treatment, he could feel her trembling with the effort to keep still.

Then her hands closed over his shoulders, and she rolled him over, pinning him down. Her pupils were blown wide with arousal, her smile a little wild. She rubbed herself against him, skin against skin, and he was all the way hard again even before she breathed in his ear, "Told you not to keep me waiting."

"A hundred and sixty years, you'd think you'd have learned some patience," he said, a little breathlessly, as Helen shrugged off her shirt and bra. She divested him of the rest of his clothes in short order, and he didn't think it was an accident that she let her hair brush teasingly over his stomach, his hip, his thigh. He propped a fist behind his head and looked down at her, and she made sure he was watching before sliding both her hands over his knees, digging her fingertips a little into his quads, then resting her forearms on his upper thighs. She folded her hands together and set the point of her chin on them to look up at him.

"At _almost_ a hundred and sixty years old, I've learned how to recognize what I really want," she said. She flattened her hands over his hips and dragged one long lick up the underside of his cock, and he groaned, fisting a hand in the bedclothes. She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, and he fought to keep his eyes open, to meet the hot glances she kept sending his way.

It was amazing, and Helen was a stunning sight. It didn't take him long to realize, though, that while the spirit was more than willing, the flesh was baseline-human weak, and he wouldn't be getting off again so soon. He brushed her hair away from her face and urged her up to him with a hand behind her neck. She gave him a questioning look, and he smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. "Okay, you have no idea how much I hate to say this, but this mere mortal is going to need to work on his stamina, to have any chance of keeping up with you guys." He kissed her, and was relieved that she sank into it without hesitation. "Rain check?" he said, when she pulled away.

She circled his lips with a fingertip. "You have been busy," she said, and smiled fondly at him. "I suppose allowances must be made."

"Thanks," he said with a chuckle.

Then he rolled them both over again, and had to really laugh when she blinked up at him. "Will?"

"You know, I was right in the middle of something before, and then I got interrupted," he said. He drew his hands down her shoulders, rubbing her upper arms, splaying his fingers as he brought them back to her chest. "Where was I? Oh, right, I got it."

He cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples under his palms, loving the moan he drew out of her. He swept his hands down her ribs, kissing her just above her navel, then below, brushing the waistband of her jeans with his chin. He glanced up to check on her, and caught her staring. Her fingers found his cheek, and he smiled up at her. "I just really hate to leave a job half-done, you know?"

"I'm in no position to argue with your work ethic," she said, the unevenness in her voice betraying how badly she wanted this, and lifted her hips to let Will finish undressing her. He stroked her thighs until some of the tension eased out of them, then nuzzled in to press a kiss high on one inner thigh, then the other. She made a frustrated noise, and he moved in to taste her, one long, smooth stroke of his tongue, just as she'd done to him. She threw her head back, her breathing harsh, and wrapped her hand around his wrist--not pushing him away or pulling him in, just holding on.

He set to work in earnest, before the sight of her abandon overwhelmed him. Aside from her increasingly labored breath, Helen was nearly silent, and he had a fleeting moment of wondering whether that was a personal thing, or a vestige of her Victorian upbringing. Silent, but nowhere near unresponsive--she urged him on with her fingers tightening around his wrist, her head thrashing, the shuddery rolling of her hips under his mouth. When she came, it was with her knees drawn up, toes curled hard into the bedclothes, and choked, wordless noises in the back of her throat.

She yanked on his wrist, hard, and he backed off, with a quick kiss to her thigh before moving up. She wrapped her arms behind his shoulders and pulled, until he was resting most of his weight on her, and then lapped at his mouth until he opened up, letting her taste herself there.

He could feel the residual tension melt out of her, and he eased himself down beside her. She rolled into him, a hazy, sated smile on her face, her movements growing languorous. Like a drain had been opened, Will felt the energy seeping out of him, too, leaving a pleasant lassitude in its wake.

He slipped his hand into the sweat-damp hair at the base of her skull. "Don't take this the wrong way, but just so you know, I'm in danger of falling asleep on you here."

Helen rubbed a finger down his chin, still the picture of contentment. "Hardly the worst fate I could imagine." She stretched out to pull on one of the blankets they'd left on the bed, and he helped her spread it kind of haphazardly over the both of them. In the process, she got hold of one of his hands, and tucked it under her chin as she curled up facing him.

"I'm going to need that back at some point," he said, chuckling.

"Hmm." By the look on her face, that wouldn't be happening any time soon.

He was starting to drift off, watching Helen's eyelids in turn droop a little lower every time she blinked, when a stray thought reminded him of something she'd said earlier. "You said you spoke to Henry tonight?"

She blinked her eyes all the way open, taking in a deep breath. "I did, yes. Well, he approached me. I didn't exert any undue influence for the pleasure of your company this evening, if that's what you're thinking."

"It wasn't, but I appreciate your integrity." She rolled her eyes, and he breathed out a laugh. He shifted a little and said, "No, what I meant was--so, what am I, a timeshare arrangement?"

"To be entirely fair, I saw you first." She tightened her hand playfully around his, but eased up right away, and her eyes were sincere as she met his. "You are of course your own man, Will." She pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, never looking away from him. "Anything more than that is a gift."

It was a relief when she deliberately closed her eyes again, because he had no idea what to say after that. But he was still thinking about it, long after Helen's breathing had evened out.

At some point, Will must have dozed off, because when he came awake, he was on his side, Helen a warm presence behind him. Judging by the windows, it was still night outside. He heard a soft rustling across the room, and looked over to see Henry kneeling by the corner where they'd stowed their packs. Will was certain he hadn't made a sound, but Henry swiveled around to look back at him, then stepped silently over and knelt beside the bed, his head level with Will's. He whispered, "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you--I was just grabbing a few things."

"Henry." He reached out and got hold of Henry's wrist, right where his leather cuff sat. "You don't have to leave."

Henry's eyebrows shot up, and he stared at Will for a long moment. "Are you sure?"

Will squeezed, sure that Henry could feel it even through the leather. "Please stay."

After another searching look, Henry nodded, and stood up to strip down to his shorts. He grabbed another blanket from the pile on the floor, and Will felt Helen moving away, making room. He wondered how long she'd been awake.

Then he wondered if he was ever going to stop wondering that kind of thing about her.

Not any time soon, he suspected.

Henry slipped into bed, and Will pulled him in for a kiss--not anything serious, just connection. Henry smelled like wood smoke and tasted like the honey cakes from the party earlier, and Will smiled into it before settling back down, Henry sharing his pillow. Helen moved up behind him, kissed the back of his neck, and laid her hand on his hip.

It was the first time he'd had them together like this while entirely sober, and that feeling of strange newness crept over him again, pushing sleep further away. After a few minutes, Helen tugged on his hip, urging him onto his back, and leaned over his shoulder to look at him. She seemed almost winsome with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair beautifully tousled, but her expression was tinged with concern. "I suppose I never really asked. Are _you_ all right with this, Will?"

Henry shifted along his other side, then poked Will in the arm. "He's thinking too much. I can hear it."

Helen threaded her fingers through his, and then settled back in beside him. "We did promise to save you from drowning," she said quietly, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

"We totally did, dude," Henry said, and clasped his other hand. "I was there and everything."

God, they really, really were going to kill him. "I'm going to hold you to that," he said, and squeezed their hands, smiling up at the painted ceiling and its sky full of stars. "Both of you."


End file.
